Softly Falling Snow
by aaadonta
Summary: "Hermione had to admit that Draco was indeed a very good dancer." Dramione fluffiness. This is my first fanfic.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter One

Of all the Yuletide festivities at Hogwarts, none was more eagerly anticipated than the Yule Ball. However, out of all the preparations for the event, none could possibly be less anticipated than the joint Gryffindor-Slytherin Yule Ball dance practice. A month before the ball, all fourth through seventh-year students from the two houses were summoned to the Great Hall at 8 p.m. sharp, where the house tables had been Vanished to reveal a spacious dance floor. As the students arrived they kept near the walls and stayed clustered in little groups: Gryffindor stayed on one side, Slytherin on the other. All of them waited apprehensively for the lesson to begin. A gramophone was stationed at the head table where Dumbledore usually sat, and Filch was clumsily placing a record on it.

Professors McGonagall and Snape made their entrance and the hall quieted immediately.

"Good evening," said McGonagall as she and Snape made their way to the front of the hall. Snape looked just as sullen as the students. "Tonight we will be continuing our lesson of the waltz. Now, if you would please find a partner" – there was a flurry of excitement as the students tried to group together—"from the opposite house."

An audible groan filled the hall. The two houses glared at each other from their opposite sides and no one dared to move.

"All right then, school unity, come on!" she said as she started to push pairs of students together. "Let's see, Mr. Goyle and Miss Patil, over here, please. Miss Brown and Mr. Zabini, here… Ah! Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger." Ignoring the shocked looks on both of their faces, she steered them together.

"B—but Professor!" Malfoy stammered. "Surely you can't expect me to dance with this Mu—"

"You would do well not to repeat that vile word in my presence, Mr. Malfoy. If I hear it from you again I will take fifty points from Slytherin and give you detention for a week. Now where was I?" McGonagall continued to pair up the students.

Hermione and Draco glared at each other, brown eyes into blue.

"What is this school coming to? I shall tell my father straightaway." Lowering his voice, Draco said, "I can't believe I'm being forced to dance with a Mudblood."

"Filch said they outlawed torture here a long time ago, but clearly they've brought it back, making me dance with you," retorted Hermione.

Soon all the students were matched up and an elegant, melodic waltz began to play. McGonagall walked among the students and observed their skills, shouting words of advice and encouragement. Snape said nothing to the students of his own house but sneered at the Gryffindors, saying things like "I see your dancing skills are not even half as good as your mediocre Quidditch skills, Potter," and "Weasley, that is the second time you have stepped on Miss Parkinson's foot. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Hermione looked over at Ron's scowling face when she heard that statement, but Draco reached up and turned her chin back to face him.

"Worried about your little _boyfriend_, eh, Granger? Don't you worry—I'm the best dancer you'll ever be with. You'd better enjoy it while you can. Savor the moment, y'know?"

Hermione had to admit that Draco was indeed a very good dancer. He knew how to move and when to turn, and with one hand on Hermione's waist he was guiding her as well. She had expected him to be cold, but his hands were warm. So warm… was that a bead of sweat under his hairline? She could feel her cheeks getting hot as she realized Draco was sweating. Her heart beat faster as she realized that underneath the calm façade, Draco looked quite nervous!

"You're blushing," he said, color creeping into his own face as he did so.

"So are you, and you're all… hot… and sweaty…" said Hermione. She had never looked into his electric-blue eyes so closely for so long.

"Must be the heat," he said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "They've got the fireplaces on too high."

"Yes, I suppose that must be it." Oh—that blue—she couldn't even look at him now. She didn't know where to look. He was wearing the same shirt-and-vest school uniform as always, so why couldn't she look at him all of a sudden?

The rest of the lesson was a blur, with the two of them glancing at each other and looking away quickly, flustered, hoping no one around them could notice what was going on. It was hard to pretend not to care, Hermione thought, while finding herself wishing that they could stay like this, taking in each other's heat, forever…

Then the music stopped and the two of them stayed together for just a second too long.

"I have seen much improvement today," announced McGonagall. "After Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff practice tomorrow I daresay the entirety of Hogwarts will be ready to show off its formidable—er—dance moves," she said with a rare half-smile. "Now, off to bed!"

Harry and Ron caught up to Hermione as the students started to leave the Great Hall.

"Bloody hell, that was awful," said Ron. "Didja hear Snape yelling at me? I'd like to see that greasy git try to dance with Pansy. She was crushing my hand on purpose, I swear." He held it up for them to see. "I'm lucky my bones aren't broken!"

"Are you okay, Hermione?" asked Harry. "Malfoy didn't… harass you too much, did he?"

Hermione's face grew even redder.

"No, um, I'm fine. I mean, I'm just tired, I guess. I'll see you two tomorrow, okay?" She scurried off to Gryffindor Tower ahead of Harry and Ron, leaving them exchanging confused looks.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

On a cold, gray Saturday morning three weeks before the ball, Hermione was—as usual—in the library. She was already done with her schoolwork and was now reading up on various forms of the Incendio spell that she thought could be useful for winter. Vaguely she wondered if Viktor Krum would show up… she was surprised and rather pleased that he had started talking to her in the library, but sometimes she was trying to get important work done and he would distract her—

"Vill you come to de ball vit me?" said a low voice from behind Hermione, and she jumped. Lost in thought, she hadn't heard Krum approach, and turned to find him standing over her with one hand on the back of her chair.

"Ohmygosh! Viktor!" she exclaimed. _This is so unreal,_ she thought. _I'm being asked out by Viktor Krum! Me!_ Her pulse quickened as she realized that around a dozen of Krum's fangirls were probably watching them in secret from behind the bookshelves. _It would be nice to go to the Yule Ball. Imagine what everyone will say when I show up with Viktor! I'll never have this opportunity again…_ but even as she thought this, she also thought of Ron. She'd been kind of hoping that Ron would ask her. Then another boy's image flickered in her mind, a boy with a pale face, blond hair… and ice blue eyes.

"I—I—I'm sorry Viktor, I need to think about it!" Hermione sputtered, getting up from her chair. She picked up her book and started to make a break for the door when Krum whispered as loudly as he dared do in the library,

"Herm-own-ninny, vait!"

She turned back to look at him.

"I vill give you some time," he said with a solemn look on his face, "but I vood veally like to go vit you."

"Tomorrow I'll tell you, I promise," said Hermione with a reassuring smile. She meant to keep her word but needed some time to think. So she put her book in her bag and decided to take a long detour back to the common room, figuring she would have plenty of time to sort out her thoughts while wandering the corridors.

She went across the corridors and up stairways, thinking all the while of the Yule Ball. She knew that if she went with Krum, she would probably have a good time. She would definitely cause an uproar among the female students. In her heart she knew that she really did want to attend the ball, but she also knew that Krum was not her first choice; she would rather go with Ron… or Draco.

Hermione began to pace along the corridor. What to do, what to do… Suddenly she heard a rustling noise from the wall beside her. Parts of the wall were becoming raised; ornate loop-like designs bubbled up and became solid. They darkened and the stone bricks turned to a shiny metal that seemed a weird cross between iron and silver. A handle formed, and then, finally, so did the outline of a door. Hermione gave a shuddering, surprised gasp as she realized that this was the Room of Requirement she had read so much about before in _Hogwarts, a History_. Eagerly she pulled on the handle, wondering what would await her inside. The door was very heavy, and she had to use both hands to open it.

She stepped into the room, which was about as big as a classroom, and the door closed behind her with a solid _thunk_. The walls of the room were the same light-colored stone as the rest of the castle, but the floor had an elaborate tile design of the sun and moon that Hermione had never seen before. Standing in the middle of this design was a lone, scared figure:

Draco Malfoy.

"Granger!" he cried. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Malfoy," she replied coolly, trying to hide the shock and excitement she felt at seeing him here.

"What is this place? Is this the Roo—"

"Room of Requirement, yes. At least I think so… I've never been in here before," she added hastily. "And I've never read any descriptions of it looking like this." The room was poorly lit, with only two small windows letting the grayish light inside.

"It's so… empty."

"I know." Hermione moved closer to Draco, who said,

"I thought the room only opened for one person at a time, based on what they wanted. And— and no one else could get in."

"I thought so too." Hermione thought for a second. "Maybe… maybe we both want the same thing. Before I came here, I was trying to decide who I should go with to the Yule Ball. What were you thinking about, Draco?"

He swallowed. "You."

Hermione's heart swelled. "I knew it! The room must have known I'd show up here. It arranged for us to meet." Slowly she reached out and took Draco's hand. "We both want to be with each other."

Draco relaxed. He squeezed her hand and grabbed her other hand too. "Ever since we danced together, I couldn't stop thinking about you. You're beautiful, Hermione. I never looked at you long enough to realize it." He looked her up and down as he said this.

"I was thinking the same thing about you," Hermione admitted, and blushed. "You're very attractive, you know."

And then the heat of the moment caught up to them and they kissed openly, without holding back, a whirlwind of motion and hands and spit—"

"I'm—taking—Pansy Parkinson to the ball," Draco gasped.

"What?" shrieked Hermione, flinging him off of her. "But—but we—"

"I already asked her. Well, actually, she kind of made me do it. I didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

"Oh, so I'm just your—your Mudblood toy, am I?" cried Hermione hysterically, backing away from him.

"No! No, I want _you_." Draco moved forward and tried to grab Hermione's wrist, but she moved her arm away. "I only want you, but we can't go to the ball together. I'm supposed to hate Muggle-borns, remember? If my father knew—"

"Oh, stupefy your father! Fine then, I'm going to the ball with Viktor Krum!"

Draco began to laugh but quickly stopped when he saw that Hermione was serious.

"…MUCH better dancer… Bulgarian dance moves…" she mumbled as she stormed out of the room, leaving Draco all alone again.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: This is mainly based on the movie version of the Yule Ball.

Chapter Three

Hermione was crying.

The Yule Ball had been wonderful enough at first; in her new periwinkle blue robes Hermione had turned heads and been the recipient of many jealous looks. Draco, clearly avoiding her, had looked visibly upset at seeing Hermione in all her dressed-up glory on the arm of Viktor Krum. He engaged in a few awkward dances with Pansy, who was wearing some kind of ugly, frilly pink thing, but on the whole he just looked dejected, and Hermione felt a slightly guilty happiness. Krum had been a fairly good dancer, but he didn't talk much, and he had left the ball right away when Hermione got into a fight with Ron.

The very thought of Ron sent another wave of tears flowing down Hermione's face. He had spent the evening antagonizing her for going with Krum. The worst part was that Ron hadn't even asked her until the very last minute. If only he had asked her before Viktor did, she thought, wiping her eyes and imagining a happy time spent at the ball with Ron. Or if only she hadn't decided to go with Viktor to make Malfoy jealous… she could have then asked Ron herself, and politely declined Viktor's offer…

She sat down on the staircase and took off her heels. They were pretty shoes, but they hurt like hell. She could see happy couples leaving the Great Hall, and in her state of sadness they almost seemed to be mocking her. Speaking of mocking her… she wasn't quite convinced that Draco had been serious when he said he had only wanted her. She couldn't believe he had led her on like that only to tell her he was going with Pansy after all. He had only done that after getting a kiss, too… _It was probably some sort of stupid prank,_ thought Hermione sadly. _He was probably dared to kiss the Mudblood or something. No doubt half of Slytherin had been watching from somewhere and it hadn't even been the real Room of Requirement, just a door with a Vanishing Spell on it. Oh, why didn't I see through it before? I'm sure he had expected me not to go to the ball, and was just sulking when he saw that I really was going with Viktor—_

"Granger!" a voice loudly whispered from somewhere below Hermione, jolting her out of her thoughts. She looked toward the source of the sound and noticed that a door to an unused classroom near the base of the stairs was open slightly. It was dark inside.

Hermione got up and looked around. No one in the corridor was watching her; they were all too busy saying good night to their dates. She walked over to the door, wondering if the voice really belonged to whom she thought it did.

Sure enough, Draco was standing just inside, wearing expensive-looking black dress robes.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked suspiciously. Just then, a bunch of giggling girls exited the Great Hall and started to make their way down the corridor.

"Get in! Quickly, before someone sees!" Draco hissed, grabbing Hermione's wrist and pulling her inside. He closed the door behind them so that the room was lit only by the night's snowy sky. "I had to tell you… you looked amazing tonight."

"That's funny, because you can barely see me," said Hermione dryly, starting to move toward the door.

"No! Wait! I mean, you're much prettier than Pansy." Draco gave a small, almost bashful smile. "And she can't dance at all. What I'm really trying to say is that I wish I could have spent the entire night with you."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do. Oh, I'm sorry—here," he said, holding out a handkerchief.

"I'll get all my makeup on it."

"It's okay, as long as it's not streaked all over your face like it is now. Besides, I think you look beautiful without makeup anyway." He wiped the tears off of Hermione's cheeks himself. "I'm sorry for what I did the last time we were alone together. I should have told you straight away that I was taking Pansy to the ball. I'm not sorry for the kiss, though."

Hermione shifted her weight. "I'm sorry too. I pretty much went with Viktor to make you jealous, and then Ron and I got in a fight about it. Oh, but he doesn't know that's why I went with Viktor," she added quickly. "I understand why you couldn't take me… it must be hard to go against your family. I know they would disown you if they found out." She peered into his eyes. "But can we have… a future? Say this goes long-term. What will we do when we come of age? How long will we have to keep our relationship, or whatever it is that we have, a secret?"

Draco put the handkerchief in his pocket and stayed silent for a minute. "I don't know. It's going to be difficult. We'd have to stay on the down low until after we're both 17, at least. And… well, maybe you've figured out that my father used to be a Death Eater. _I_ don't want to be one, but If You-Know-Who comes back, well, I don't know what will happen. I could be forced into it against my will. But I'll do whatever it takes to be with you."

"I know your father was involved with that," said Hermione gently. "But I've learnt just recently that you think differently than him. Thank you for showing me that side of you."

There was a brief silence during which they could hear the faint notes of a slow song by the Weird Sisters, and Draco said, "For now, I'd just like to have this dance with you." He pointed his wand in the direction of the Great Hall and muttered a spell that made the music become magically amplified. "That's better." He held out his hand.

Hermione shivered. She frowned and looked around the room. "Hmm. I know… hold on." She took out her wand, too. "Incendio Globulus!" Several small spheres of fire floated out of her wand and surrounded them, creating a cozy glow.

Draco had clearly never seen anything like it before. "Wow, that's perfect," he said softly. He took Hermione's hand and placed his other hand on her waist, and the two danced the final dance of the Yule Ball. Hermione was still barefoot. Several minutes later, the music stopped and the clock tower started to chime.

"It's midnight," said Hermione. Still in each other's arms, the two looked out the window at the softly falling snow. "Happy Christmas, Draco."

"Happy Christmas, Hermione."

They kissed surrounded by orange spheres of flame.

The End


End file.
